Raijin Thunderkeg: Origins of the Storm
by Cornwall McHantia
Summary: Raijin Thunderkeg the Storm Spirit is known for his stormy prowess in battle and his jovial nature. But how did two completely different beings fuse into this single entity? This is the story of a determined man who goes by the alias Thunderkeg, and how he meets the powerful celestial Raijin in his quest to end the plague in his village.


**This is the tale of how a mortal and an immortal fused to be known as the Storm Spirit. Multi-chaptered.**

**I'm new to the writing scene, so please don't hesitate to leave any constructive criticism in the reviews, would really appreciate some of that.**

**Enjoy!**

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"Father!"

The young boy was unable to hold back his tears, as his dying kin looked up at him from what would soon be his deathbed.

It was something his father had taught him - men should not, and could not cry. But he found himself unable to follow these teachings for once, as he grasped onto his father's rough hand. As a dying man, his grip was weak, but there was still a grip as he linked fingers with his son.

Beside the boy, his mother silently sobbed.

"You are..." His father paused, before forcing a weak smile onto his face. "You are going to grow into a strong man. You're going to become somebody... somebody who's important."

By now, the child allowed the tears to flow. "Stop... stop talking like that! You're not going to die, you're not going to-"

He was interrupted, as his father continued. "It is a pity... that I won't be able to witness that growth. I won't be able to see what kind of man my son will become."

At this point, the boy's mother threw herself onto her partner, hugging him tightly, screaming his name and begging. "Don't die, please, you can't leave us... Not like this!"

"I'm sorry... for deserting you... my family... in this... manner," he had trouble getting his words out, as he grew weaker by the second. "But you... both will survive. You have to... you have to survive. I'm... sorry."

"No!" The woman cut him off, burying her face in his neck as she cried. "I'm... I'm the one who has to be apologizing... You gave what little of the food and water we had to us... that's why you've become so weak. It's... it's my fault!"

The father soothed his wife. "Nobody has to apologize. As the man of the house... it is... my duty... to... make sure... the both of you... don't suffer from hunger and... thirst...!"

He took in deeper breaths. His body was beginning to fail him.

"Father! Please..."

He cast a reassuring smile to his son.

"I love you... my family..." The man gasped. He knew that these were his last words. "... Please... survive."

And with that, his hand grew limp, and his eyes closed for eternity.

The next thing the young boy heard was his mother's sorrowful wail. He did not make a sound, simply clinging to his now deceased father's body, unwilling to let go. His mind held one thought.

_One day... one day... I will end this drought. I will end this famine. Then... no one will have to suffer like this again. _

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With the departure of his father to the heavens, the family's empty farm would now be truly left alone for good. A decade ago, it was flourishing, but harsh drought in the past years had made sure of the farm's demise.

His father had resorted to begging and relentless working for meals. However, he got little to nothing in return, and what little he received, he'd gave to his family. Despite suffering from dehydration and immense hunger, he stubbornly refused to compete with the young boy and his mother for the small pieces of bread and skins of water, which eventually led to his demise.

While his mother turned to begging for food on the streets, he worked tirelessly for others. However, the drought had changed many fortunes, and even the people who were once insanely rich had to worry about everyday meals. Due to this, work rarely reaped him much rewards, but the boy could not complain.

But by nightfall, the youngster sneaked quietly into the small village's library. Sorcerers, spellcasters and magic in general was revered all around the world, and naturally the tiny library held at least a few tomes on the subject.

It was an isolated place in the village. The tomes, at least fifty years old, were said to be donated to the village by a passing mage decades ago. Unfortunately, none of the villagers really understood the tomes, nor much of the library's books in general, and thus the library became a seldom-frequented destination.

But the young boy studied the tomes relentlessly... especially the one on elemental spells and elemental magic.

If he could learn these magics, and perhaps if he practiced hard enough, he could end the drought plaguing the village.

Although the tomes were complicated in writing and the boy had never before picked up a book, he soon found himself understanding a quarter of the tome's teachings.

Every night, the boy would enter the library, and read the tome on elemental magic for hours and hours. Gradually, he began to grasp the concept of it.

According to the tome, there existed a spell that conjured storm and rain in the sky. If he could master this, the village would no longer have to worry about the droughts. Famine would no longer exist, and no one had to suffer like how his father had.

The spell involved the summoning of a celestial being known as the Storm Spirit from the skies. With the power of the immortal entity, storms would occur, and the village would be blessed with heavy rainfall.

But as he read on, he discovered that the spell was a powerful one, one that was near impossible to master.

The boy was undaunted. He still had years and years ahead of him. Practice made perfect, and he was going to attain perfect, no matter the costs.

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**A short prologue/first chapter, but there is more to come. What do you think of the story so far? Some feedback would be awesome. **

**Until next time :)**


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